


Fate Will Lead Us Home

by AnneLaurant



Category: Aveyond
Genre: Adoption, Banter, F/M, Family, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Marriage, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26233750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnneLaurant/pseuds/AnneLaurant
Summary: And then the Chosen One chooses the Eastern Empire. Her first mate rejoices, and then--And then they find themselves at home.
Relationships: Rhen Pendragon/Lars Tenobor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Fate Will Lead Us Home

**Author's Note:**

> This baby (slaps fic) is chock-full of headcanons because I was only working from my memories of Aveyond 1 and also I was more than delighted to slap my version of the Tenobors' backstory and a bit of my own worldbuilding onto canon Aia.
> 
> Anyway, sit back and enjoy the fic; long live R/L. Seriously, I have no idea how you guys manage to keep the fandom alive til this day.

There are better things a swordsinger and a Chosen One like Rhen Pendragon could do. One was, of course, to become a queen. Another was to go back to her old life as a Clearwater woman, as she'd always dreamed of being. Maybe she'd want to live as a wise hermit and turn lost travelers back into the right path.

She chose the Eastern Empire.

Lars would never say it, but he was just about this close to jumping in joy and flexing at the Sun Priest that, hey, Rhen's coming with _me_.

* * *

"It's not the best place to be."

"That's the bad news."

"Is _she_ still there?"

"That's the good news."

"Oh, yeah."

Rhen rushed into Villa Tenobor and immediately jumped up and down on the bed that used to be Mistress - Madam Rona's. Lars followed her with a bored face. His mother wasn't a very good person, after all, but Rhen was relieved that the woman had retired to one of their vacation villas to make room for her darling son and his own family in the future.

Their party could be counted as family, right?

"You can have that bed if you want."

"Well, duh. I've maintained this thing for three months with horrible pay and lodging." Not to mention horrible treatment, schedule, and food. "I should have the right to sleep here if I want to."

Lars shrugged.

* * *

People talked. They were cohabiting. A man and a woman with no real connections were cohabiting. To boot, Rhen didn't bother covering up her forearms, showing she'd had the sword singer tattoo. Lars was known in Ghalarah as a sorcerer, son to a family with known profiency in sorcery. They - Lars - didn't even have a slave.

Rhen only stuck out her tongue. Lars? He focused on getting to Shadwood as a professor. He's already lost part of his reputation once; he's not too sad about it. Nobody even knew they were part of the party who saved the world from Ahriman, and no one even brought up how Rhen had the same name as the heir to Thais.

Besides, they'd already done this cohabiting thing. Setting up camp, taking turns, that's all the food we have. Rickety inns, limited funds, there was only one bed. And like kids they'd huddled together in the snowy night in the Northern Isle as hailstorms and avalanches ravaged the land.

That was not the last time they would've done that. Wounds didn't always heal, scars sometimes ached, and holding each other soothed the pain, even a little.

Lars wasn't just sure if Rhen was mumbling "Danny" or "Dameon". Could be both, but he was sure as the sun it wasn't him.

* * *

Rhen remembered enjoying the Academy as a student, but she also remembered that its tests were a pain. The practicals are way nicer and more of her forte--

Besides, really, what're Lorad and the others gonna do? _She_ faced _the_ Ahriman and put an end to him, and permanently this time. Well, she did it with the help of her party, but she was the one wielding the Sword of Shadows that struck the killing blow! And nobody knew that, which was good, because she had no idea how to play a hero after the quest had ended, and she was more than happy to be just normal Rhen after the whole affair.

\--but the written exams, boy, they. Were. A. Pain.

"Okay, Peta. What is the difference between hexes, curses, and jinxes?" Lars read from the sample questionnaire.

Rhen looked outside for inspiration, but what she saw made her blood boil. "...is it okay if we take a break and interfere, go out there, and save some poor sap from being terrorized by Ylitta?"

* * *

"Slavery should be abolished, really. I don't see why Sattina bothers with Ylitta and Hector's bidding."

Lars nodded. They'd been discussing this thing for weeks, for months. Without looking up from his textbook, he said, "And what about the slaves who still wish to serve the rich? The nobilities who rely on their slaves to do menial tasks so they could carry out things like law and business?"

"We'll call them servants and give them better rights. Ylitta is still terrible after all these years! And I know Hector's doing better but he shouldn't load so much on Sattina's plate!"

"Right. Of course." Lars closed his book. "Enlighten me more when we're not studying for the Professorship Proficiency Preliminaries, will you?"

Rhen pursed her lips in thought. Actually, she wasn't even thinking. Her eyes had that mischievous glint he adored so much. "No, Grasshead, I wanna talk about it more."

Despite, Lars groaned. "We can talk about it when we're done with the written exams, okay? Please?" He had priorities. "Don't come begging to me when you fail that written exam flawlessly, okay?"

"Boo!"

* * *

They got in.

The practicals were hardly something to celebrate when they both knew it was the easy part, when their peers were dreading it. They aced that and set a record for the academy. Lars was even trying to hold back, until Rhen insulted him and he had to show how powerful Ahriman's enemies had been. That was the best decision she'd made in a while.

Passing the written exams, meanwhile, was something like a miracle. Rhen had never seen Lars dance like a rat, like a rabbit... well there he was.

And here she was, dancing like cattle. And they were dancing atop a table at a tavern. It was only when Master Harald yelled at them that they had to get down. Sorcerers and sword singers were supposed to maintain an air of rivalry between each other for the sake of the school's competitive spirit, after all.

But alas, they were licensed professors at the Academy, and it wasn't harmful to pay respects to camaraderie either.

* * *

Lars was, miraculously, a natural at being a teacher. Kids respected him - feared him. It was perhaps because he said the color of his orb changes with his emotions... that was a lie. He willingly changed them with a small flick of finger. Changing himself to fit his students' needs wasn't too difficult.

Rhen, however, was not. Then again, learning was different from teaching, and she often got into fights with both her students and the other professors.

In the end, she only had one class to teach, twice a week, leaving her with little to do.

Being the gracious benefactor he was, Lars gave her part of his land to do whatever she pleased. It was just convenient anyway - he got to help her, and he prevented anyone from getting their grimy hands on his unused assets. Once or twice a week, her friend Sattina came over to help. Predictable as she was, Rhen hoarded animals and was perfectly pleased whenever he'd come home once a week and scrunch up his nose at the putrid animal smell.

Whatever. Her sheep got rid of the tall grass that had laid forgotten next to Villa Tenobor, so he swore to grant her little wish and, little by little, appeal to the Empress about that thing with abolishing slavery. It's her fault for leaving her dissertation on what used to be her table at the office, anyway.

* * *

Rhen stopped hoarding animals after she realized it was getting overcrowded in her little farm next to Villa Tenobor. Even with the help of Ylitta's sla--servant, Sattina, it was getting really stinky and crowded.

And so, Rhen contented herself to raising chickens and sheep. Some she sold for meat; some she kept for further breeding; some she gave away when the colder months approached. She was raised that way, and it was an honorable way to live - to provide food for the hungry.

Either way, there was no way she could run away from royalty, even when she refused being Queen. Lars had been royalty, and she had forgotten he'd told her so long ago that he and the Empress were cousins.

So when he came up to her, pale and sweaty, in his hands another formal gold and green outfit like that time in Sedona, she had been so confused and the next thing she knew was that the Empress had granted her and Lars an audience - actually, a dinner. Rhen Darzon, Clearwater girl, eating with the Empress of the Eastern Empire.

"It's an honor to meet the co-author of this lovely dissertation right here! 'An Inquiry to the Status of Slaves in the Eastern Empire'... Miss Darzon, was it?"

Rhen turned to Lars, realization and panic rising. They weren't as good in any other exams that weren't practical or kicking someone's butt.

* * *

"I am never doing that dissertation thing again," Lars announced in the silence.

"And I am never letting you get your hands on any of my stuff ever again."

Rhen tossed her fancy form-fitting get-up over him. Beneath him was his equally-fancy get-up, and he had never felt this uncomfortable ever about his pretty clothes. They suffocated him in front of the Empress' constant barrage of questions.

Lars shut his eyes. His cousin loved to ask and he'd forgotten about that. He could only imagine his reputation getting caught up in a whirlwind of rumors again.

"Sorry."

"You're not sorry, Grasshead."

It would be a long time before she'd truly forgive him.

* * *

Rhen grinned as Lars waved goodbye for the week. Time for petty revenge from dear Peta.

It was the week she discovered that Lars - or the Tenobors - had some fascination for hues of green and violet together. She'd dug up a collection of paintings depicting green-haired individuals - well, groups - with lavender or purple outfits. Children and their mothers. Infants held in the arms of their fathers. Those with different hair colors had green veils or caps over their head.

Most curious was the lone painting of a woman with wine-purple hair, wearing a pinkish lilac satin dress. Her red lips told Rhen this was someone's woman. And the features of this woman's face told Rhen she was of Thaisian blood.

Rhen took that one framed portrait and laid it out on the entrance hall. She wanted answers.

And also, she wanted to tease Lars. Sticking her tongue out, she rehearsed, "Bet you liked me 'coz you liked her!"

* * *

It's a tough week at Shadwood Academy when each and every one of your peers jeered behind you and in front of you for defending that silly dissertation most of them thought was just wrong.

It's a tough week at Veldarah when each and every one of the passersby know you had gone into the Empress' castle with that woman they'd been talking about because wow, it was expected of a Tenobor to choose someone with green or purple hair based on family history, so the Empress must've given you her blessings and the wedding would be up real soon, right?

And it's a tough weekend at Ghalarah when you come home to your housemate, best friend, rival, enemy, whatever and she - Rhen, Rhenellaine Darzon, please, for the love of Aia, _stop_ \- she kept teasing you about that picture of your father's mistress whom you also had a crush on as a child.

"Listen, all I know is that she's connected to the Pendragons somehow, okay?"

"Oh no, what if I was your long-lost half-sister?"

"Rhen, your biological mother has golden hair. Your biological father has blue hair. You and her--" You pointed to the portrait. "--are not related. You can't point to any golden-haired person out there that they're Alicia Pendragon's heir, can you? Or are you gonna say your sword singer best friend from your days as a Shadwood student was also my sister?"

"...point taken. So, is she the reason you're like this with me?"

Lars' initial fatigue went, and somberness embraced him. A flurry of memories washed him like rain in the forest. "Initially, yeah."

" _Initially._ "

"Loathed her. Loved her. She was beautiful, but she is the reason why my family... well."

Okay, Lars. Way to dampen the mood. Rhen was just trying to get back at you for last week.

* * *

It took another week before Rhen mustered the courage to prod Lars about the subject. "...I once heard from the professors that your father was gifted, like you."

"Probably blessed; probably cursed. Pick one, 'cause he didn't."

She snorted. "Right. Sword singer, _and_ sorcerer. Who would've known, huh?"

"He knew he was gonna be a sorcerer. He just didn't know he was gonna awaken his abilities as a sword singer. His graduation tattoos were absolutely awesome, and that was the one thing I really liked about him."

"But what about the woman?"

Lars smirked. "She was beautiful. Vilely so. She always said hi to me. She probably wanted to be friends or something."

He gave a deep sigh. "Hey, uh, thank you Rhen. Now that I think of it again, I really don't know much about it myself. I knew they - my father, my mother were fighting. He wanted something more for himself, so, well, he left with his mistress and the sla--servants, since they were pretty much loyal to him. And I... I don't know, I... I remember it was a dark cloud and everything was suffocating. I wanted to run away. But Mother... she, I just... I mean, Rhen, we're the same age, right?"

"Mmm, yeah?"

"Those years weren't something I'm proud of."

Rhen could only guess that it was closely-tied to that time she had been his family's slave. Her wrist ached.

But still, she found herself wrapping her arms around Lars, gently holding his trembling fists and simply listening to quiet whimpers.

* * *

Lars had a nightmare he hadn't seen in years. Well, at least he saw the faces of some people he hadn't seen in years either. His former nanny, his father's mistress, and of course, his father. The legacy of the Tenobors frowned upon him, Lars, the heir to all of these riches and mess.

The skin upon which Lars' sorcerer tattoos were imbued ached, and he woke up in the cold emptiness of his room with silent tears.

He got up and walked to the kitchen. He'd intended to get a glass of water and just go back to sleep if he could, but instead, he saw Rhen up and about, staring at the darkness, at the small farm next to the villa, and he changed his plans.

Lars walked up behind her, and with shaky arms, hugged her. Her hand touched his arm, and they swayed back and forth, to the motion of the gentle breeze of the night. He could only imagined how their tattoos aligned - hers had been on the forearms, from wrists to elbows; his on the upper arm, from elbows to shoulders. His green hair blended with her lilac locks, and well, the Tenobors weren't wrong when they said those were such lovely, regal, noble colors.

"I was thinking about my parents," she murmured, "Ma and Pa. And Devin, too."

Lars nodded.

"I never really knew Alicia Pendragon. I keep looking at your father's mistress, you know. I probably have more in common with her than I do with Alicia. And, Devin... I left him Thais. I feel horrible."

Her hand found his own hand, and their fingers interlaced.

"Now I miss Ma and Pa. I miss Clearwater. I wonder if we could go back somehow."

"Of course. It's your home. The Darzons are your home."

"But what about you?"

Lars broke away from their embrace and shoved Rhen playfully. Rhen grumbled and shoved him back, and he almost fell against the counter. He raised his hand, his tattoos glowing, and Rhen dodged the ball of energy he threw her. Groaning, he tackled her, but she easily flipped them over and pinned him against the floor. She'd gotten really strong, and her palms had become more calloused.

"So what about you, Grasshead?"

She wasn't really even asking. She'd known the answer now. He reflected her smirk - this was home. "Let's just go back to sleep."

* * *

"If I may intrude, what is between you and Lord Tenobor?"

Sattina rarely talked about any of the nobles. And when she did, she often had to connect it with their relationship with Rhen. Rhen, in her youth, did come to know most of them, but she'd forgotten a lot of them through time.

Save, of course, dear Lars Setiah Tenobor.

"He's an old friend," Rhen answered simply. "He helped me conquer fate. Now that I think of it, we never really 'chose' to be stuck together. Madam Rona, Professor Lorad, Master Harald, the Empress, then the Oracle, and now... I guess we just stuck because I wasn't really ready to lead my own life on my own?"

Sattina nodded and smiled. "But you are leading a life of your own now, right?"

"Oh, the farm? Well, yeah. But, right now, I really don't know what else to do."

"How about teaching at Shadwood again?"

"Negative. I've asked Master Harald to help me open up tutorial classes so I don't forget my sword singing skills, but it hasn't been really pushing through. So there, you have us out here--" Rhen squashed another giant spider and slashed down another wild chicken. "--hunting a bit."

Sattina shook her head, her soft smile never fading. "Well, do you like him?"

"I, Lars... well, Lars is really special." Rhen explained. "I somehow don't see myself without him by my side. I think I'll describe it like that."

And her mind flickered back to Dameon, back to his betrayal and his awakening to the hypnotism, and his horror at having tricked her. It had hurt, but she didn't want to lose him altogether. The Oracle had thought they had still been together when Rhen was presented her choices--

But of all those choices, Shadwood Academy was the closest to home. Like Lars said, Clearwater was still a home, but her home was, well, here.

Like him.

* * *

Lars only noticed now, but Rhen had stopped murmuring Danny or Dameon's name when they sleep next to each other.

She often clung to his back, for he rarely had nightmares the way she did. Lars had grown accustomed to the weight he felt at night, though he still woke up whenever she slipped next to him during the unholy hours of the darkness.

It's through her that he realized that his Shadwood dormitory room is small but too big, and his villa bedroom is too big but full.

In the mornings at Shadwood, he missed her laughter as she called him for breakfast. He disliked it when he looked through the window and saw students sparring and not her tending to her pets. He'd had more sleepless nights there, than here.

So maybe he did like Rhen, like she claimed.

And so, Lars began to turn around (when possible) to wrap one arm around her whenever she climbed onto his bed, at unholy hours of the night.

And when she didn't, he'd still wake up. And he'd silently mourn his loneliness.

* * *

It's about a month or two since then, and it's when rumors fly about the Empress' council discussing about abolishing slavery. There are those happy about it; there are those who are not.

And as for Rhen and Lars, cohabiting in Sedona was in order. Empress' commands - they were surely going to be mobbed if they were spotted in Veldarah now. And if people heard they were in Ghalarah, Lars could kiss his estate and Rhen her farm goodbye.

"I just hope someone's taking care of the chickens!" Rhen groaned. "The sheep will be fine, but, the chickens...!"

"Oh, joy. Sattina will save them."

It's a few more days into their little vacation in Sedona. Before Sedona, they'd come by at Tei'jal's. Then it was at Elini's. They found Pirate John and Mad Marge again. They've gone and visited Galahad and his King, sparred with the local swordsmen at the plaza, and... there wasn't much for them to do, honestly.

And without much to do, Rhen could only do a bit of gardening, use her sword singer powers to help herself do the gardening, and look at Lars.

Lars had somehow become different, now that she looked at him more closely. She didn't know how or why, but it felt like she hadn't seen him for so long. Beneath his shirt were more defined muscles, and his face, though smoother than a Westerner's, had been more mature. His hair had grown longer too, and she'd tucked a few locks behind his ear to see if he still wore those silver earrings of his with those ridiculously big rubies. He still wore them, yes, but he only flinched when she blew into his ear.

"Rhenellaine!" He turned to her with a bemused smirk, and he reached to tickle her. She indulged their little game, until they fell upon the floor in a fit of laughter, playful slaps, and wrestling.

Well, she too had grown, changed. Her hands were way more calloused - just the way she'd like it. And she'd gotten physically stronger than Lars, who once could easily tackle her, demand her obedience.

Now she was the one tackling him, pinning him to the ground. She trailed her fingers over his sorcerer tattoos, and their laughter died down. He kept his mouth shut and his rich brown eyes reflect her.

"Where are we?" Rhen asked.

"I don't know."

The question passed back and forth in their eyes. Brown and blue, brown and blue. Might we, should we, could we.

"I don't know where to go. But I do know whatever it is, I want it to be with you."

And he passed the batton to her, willingly giving himself and his fate to her. He closed his eyes. So did she.

And in a moment of hesitation, she pulled both of them up to their feet. "Lars! Do you remember that awful year-ender dance back at Shadwood?!" She didn't know why she was yelling, but it at least drowned her heartbeat in her ear.

"Yeah!" He followed suit.

"Do you remember when you shoved that green dress on me, here in Sedona, so we could do Galahad a bit of a favor for his King?!"

"I do! I remember! You looked really lovely in it!"

"Do you know I'd been thinking of you?!"

"What?! What in Aia?! I was thinking the same! I mean! I was thinking of you, too!"

"Let's go to Clearwater!"

"Okay!"

The next few minutes were spent fumbling through their belongings and their clothes, to their usual traveling clothes as a sword singer and a sorcerer, and they quickly ran out of Sedona.

They caught their breaths in the woods of the Highlands, and they laughed, and laughed, and laughed. At some point, Rhen started crying and she didn't know why, didn't care to know why. Or maybe she was just sweaty. Dunno.

She just knew that she was really, really happy. And that Lars pressed his forehead against hers, sharing in her laughter and her breath, until the distance between their lips was non-existent. And even through the kiss, they were laughing. It was so sloppy it was barely called a kiss, or a few kisses, whatever.

She was safe. She was warm. She was home now.

* * *

In Clearwater, Lars did chores here, chores there, chores everywhere. The local healer also had him help around with her potions and her spells, and when their lesson time was over, he'd just walk around the cliffs to spend his time meditating. Learning to control his ever-growing power was part of being a very powerful sorcerer, and when they wanted to let loose, his tattoos ached. Spending his time by the waterfalls and going out with Rhen to spar in the woods had been wise.

He only realized lately that he had been far powerful than his peers, than his teachers. No wonder Rhen hated teaching and hated the indoors. It wasn't that bad; it was just surprising.

He also realized that Clearwater was far colder than he anticipated, and he had left his thicker coats back in Sedona, back in Ghalarah. Tailor Darzon always left the windows open, and Lars always closed them. Rhen and her mother laughed about it, of course.

The Darzons' pies were nice and warm though, and Lars loved them. He always beat Rhen to the largest piece, but even so, he'd ask - beg her to let him feed her. With a finger, she'd swipe the apple sauce against his cheek, and they'd try shoving the pies into each other's mouths. Tailor Darzon would tell them they were like children and roll his eyes.

Lars would only kiss Rhen on her nose as she laughed, laughed, laughed. Her voice was music to his ears.

* * *

So when Rhen told him, "Hey, Grasshead, wanna get married?" she's half joking, half serious. He was also surely only half joking when he held out his hand, expecting a ring to be slipped onto his finger.

"Well, I need a ring, Peta. Everything's back in Ghalarah."

She was probably serious when she slipped a ring made out of a purple flower on his finger. Clearwater had the technology to preserve flowers for jewelry, and what better gift to offer than something of her own culture, right?

And as she started to think of how to boast of her craftsmanship, his face started to darken right around the cheeks. He then stood and walked out the house, and Rhen dutifully followed him. They reached the cliffs next to the waterfalls, and he released several, rather large balls of energy to the empty sky. They turned to colorful fireworks that spelled out, "Okay."

He was more than serious and more than flustered when he fell to his knees and confessed, "I thought we'd never get there."

Well, that ended better than expected.

* * *

When the sunflowers of Clearwater bloomed, so did the roses and daises on the wreaths for their heads. Donned in white, Lars and Rhen proceeded between the happy villagers cheering for them. After a lovely traditional song about binding two hearts together, the village elder of Clearwater bestowed them blessings and luck, and with the power vested in her, pronounced the two husband and wife. In the absence of a proper ring, earrings were exchanged.

The newlyweds enjoyed the honey that flowed for them in the banquet that followed. They also enjoyed setting loose blocks of cheese down the cliffs and watching every able man in Clearwater scale down the mountain to get their prizes. The women welcomed each man with a cheese with apple pies.

Once more, Rhen found Lars adoring the ring she fashioned for him. She leaned against him, and he turned to kiss her temple. Both of them had a golden hoop earring and a silver drop earring with a ruby - and still, somehow, the pairs of mismatched earrings matched.

"I'll get you something once we're back in Ghalarah," he promised.

"You're everything I could've asked for, Grasshead."

_I love you._

* * *

It was, well, surely something when they came back to Veldarah, courtesy of the Empress' invites. For the year and a half that they had fled to the Western Isles, the council had somehow fast-tracked that slavery thing, and now slaves were free. They were also given citizenship to Veldarah, temporary monetary assistance until they get jobs, and a permanent lodging for at least two years. Those who still wanted to serve the nobility were free to become servants if they wished, but the noble families were required to register their names, pay them well, and ensure them at least three full meals a day.

Sattina was more than ready to throw herself at Lars and Rhen when they came back. They hired her as household help, gave her free board and lodging at Villa Tenobor, and allowed her formal education and a better life. Rhen somehow managed to arrange an apprenticeship for Sattina at the dressmaker's shop.

And when Lars came back to Shadwood, two rooms filled with servant-class hopefuls begged him to teach them. Master Harald told him to drag Rhen's butt back into the academy, because the servant-class sword singers wanted her to teach them. Word really spread that fast.

Hence, Rhen found another jumpstart for her career in teaching, to both her and Lars' relief.

But just as they'd figured out they'd changed the world in three ways now, the world told them they'd changed it in a fourth way.

Once, Shadwood prided itself in making sword singers and sorcerers compete against each other. Now, in the hallways, Lars often had to scold his sorcery students away from the newbie sword singers, and Rhen her own students away from Lars' greenhorns. Professors from both disciplines started seeing each other behind Master Harald's back, and often the Darzon-Tenobor couple was privy to their relationship problems.

It was then that the two realized that the public really, really did acknowledge them as a pair. It was not simply Lars Setiah Tenobor, or Rhenellaine Darzon. It was Lars Tenobor and Rhen Darzon.

Lars smirked, and Rhen grinned. That's just about right.

* * *

The Empress acknowledged their papers in Clearwater as legal, and so, off to the orphanage it was.

Rhen wasn't sure about childbirth, and Lars wasn't really sensually amorous, so it was easy for her to get his butt in this run-down place that they had already pledged monthly donations to.

She was thinking of that girl at the back, and he thought, maybe that baby by the door. How were they supposed to "know"? They had their doubts, they kept looking at each kid, until the orphanage nanny introduced a little boy with green hair and purple eyes as "Lars"--

"Second." "Junior."

\--because really, fate was whimsy, and some divine power had latched onto them starting age 14, continuing until this very moment.

Hence, Lars II, otherwise known as simply "Second" or "Junior", became the heir to the Tenobor estate and the Darzon farms. When he'd presented himself as someone with skills in sword singing and sorcery, his parents were more than eager to speed-run his training, without going through Shadwood Academy. He was simply more than happy to have people supporting him, caring for him, loving him and asking nothing, but for him to forge his own path without regret, in return.

To this day, he had no idea they were two of the heroes who slayed Ahriman.

* * *

All roads led home, and old friends gathered around a banquet.

They had witnessed rites grander than any King's or Queen's, in their opinion. The Empress had lavishly provided a(nother) wedding ceremony for the new High Sorcerer and High Sword Singer of Shadwood Academy, and with every invite she sent, word spread.

Now, Elini, Tei'jal, Galahad, Pirate John, Mad Marge, and even Dameon looked upon the stage. The couple donned in the empire's elaborate traditional clothing looked like a King and Queen in their own right, and the dance they performed enthralled each spectator, with every swish of their sashes, and the way their tattoos glowed and shone with magic performing arts. Flower tonics were served next to tropical nuts, and the party toasted altogether. The main course would be served soon, but they was more than happy to wait and get the real juicy bits while waiting.

"So how much was her dowry?" Elini asked.

With his trademark smirk, Lars answered, "Nothing I can't afford."

With a staff, Dameon hit him lightly on the head. "Be nice."

"Hey, I was being nice!"

The others laughed.

"Hey, didn't you two kids get married already?" Galahad asked, "Back in the lady's hometown?"

Pirate John pointed to the green-haired kid running around, repeating what magic he'd seen on the stage. "I did the math, now talk. What's with the kid?"

The couple replied: "That's Junior." "That's Second."

"Kid ain't their kid, methinks." Marge took a swig of the flower tonic. "Not by blood."

"Ah, makes sense."

Dameon called the kid to their table, and one by one, he introduced Lars II to his parents' friends.

"That's Tei'jal; she's a vampire. And next to her is Pirate John. He's a dragon whisperer. And those two elderly folk, they're really nice."

Of course, two more friends sat at the other end of the table-- 

"My mother, and..."

"That's your grandpa, Junior," quipped Rhen.

\--Talia Maurva and Devin Perry-Pendragon. Lars II smiled and waved at them, before running off again, this time with Dameon chasing after him. He bumped into Sattina, and after a few shy exchanges, he returned to the table with dark cheeks, welcomed by knowing grins.

Devin then turned to Rhen. "So, will my daughter come home soon?"

What a question. Once again, Rhen had been asked to be Queen. This must've been the third or fourth time fate had requested her to fulfill a duty.

Rhen glanced at each and every one of her friends, asking for their opinions through their eyes. "I don't know. What do you think, Lars?"

Lars shrugged. "Could be fun. I mean, you're technically royalty now, Lady Tenobor. You've abolished slavery, and you're High Sword Singer. It might be nice, and maybe that'll help you get along with Mother a little better."

_Wherever you go, I want to be with you._

Rhen gazed at her hand. There was a golden ring with purple and green stones, and it was perfect, but somehow, it still felt empty... empty and void of a silver ring with white and blue stones. The Pendragon signet.

Lars thought the same, and when their eyes met, a new adventure unfolded in their heads.

Rhen smirked. "How about tomorrow?"


End file.
